Haha...I had a four story house packed with stuff. The basement was all good stuff, imo, like building supplies, albums I've had since I was 15, CDs, VCR tapes and cassettes, children's games and a killer stereo with all the components including an equilizer and turntable. The first floor was loaded with books, memorabilia and kitchen stuff including a ton of cook books and herbs and vitamins. Second floor was cosmetics type stuff and clothes...OMG the clothes from thrift stores...I lost weight...gained weight...lost weight...so I had clothes form size 2 - 12 and didn't want to throw them away...halloween costumes from years back and my son's uniforms from every activity he was ever in. Fourth floor was a giant telescope all sorts of miscellaneous goodies. Then there was the stuff outside like the garden bridge, swing, contrect zen pagoda, water fountain, trellises, various garden stones and nicnacks and windchimes........I couldn't part with any of it, although it wasn't really hoarding like on tv, there was a lot of stuff.
I had to move to stay with my dad and just left the place. My OCD/histronic mom took it over and threw away a lot of it and packed the rest up. I had told her not to but she did it anyways. It was traumatic for me to go back and all my stuff be gone...of course it didn't happen quickly, although she did do a lot more quickly than you'd think. It felt like she was doing away with my very self...and I think in a way she was. But, now that it's gone, I do feel lighter in a way. Some of it is still in storage and I'll have to go through it soon. I don't know that I could have ever done it like my mother did. There was also a water leak that destroyed my albums or I never would have parted with them...and I had a lot!
I'm trying to use the Buddhist monk model...lol...I really don't need all that stuff to be me. We can't keep anything, really,nothing belongs to us forever. We/I have to let go. It is hard and I think I'm still suffering a little from a loss of identity from the separation of me and my junk/house/then my dog and cat died and my son got a girlfriend.......What is it that makes us who we are? It isn't the stuff....Sorry I'm rambling...but yes, I think I suffer similarly. And I miss my stuff.
The house finally has a contract on it and will be sold in a few weeks. I regret it in a way but in another way, I know it was too much for me to keep, and the memories were to much as well. Still, I feel a pain with the fear of loosing those memories.
Edit::: When I cleaned out the letter boxes, it was terribly emotional. I moved some of them here with me into this house. Then I put them in the trunk of my car and carried them around a long time, not being able to actually put them into the dump. I finally did after many months of shuffling them around in my car.